What if it wasn't Harry?
by justice-22
Summary: hey everyone. this is my first story so go easy on me. Harry isnt the focus of Voldemort in my story, he's just a spoke on the wheel that YouKnowWho is turning. And the hub insn't even a part of their lives, yet...


"Layna! Over here! Move!" I yelled across the café above the explosions and screams and curses. From behind the glass counter, I peered at my sister, watching as she stood stalk still and watched the madness and carnage around her. My father had heard my cry as he battled with one of the cloaked figures killing my family. He looked around until he spotted my sister. He turned his back on the enemy to lift her up and throw her over the crowd and onto the counter.

As I jumped up, she landed in my arms, jarring me so bad I fell back against the wall behind the counter. As my father turned back to the battle, I took Layna and hid her underneath me while we huddled against the counter, trying to make ourselves as small as possible. Silently I cried as I listened to the death of my entire family.

That day was the family reunion of the infamous Justice clan. We were one of the oldest families of wizarding blood in America. We had over 70 people in our clan that were all there that day. About halfway through the desert, I had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Explosions echoed through the tiled room as I washed my hands.

Tearing from the room with dripping fingers, I came through the swinging door behind the counter that led through to the bathroom and saw my entire family in pitched battle with at least 20 enemy all dressed in long black robes with masks hiding their faced from the nose up. That was when I saw the desperation on my sister's face as she stood in the middle of the café among falling and fallen bodies, the bright colors of curses flying through the small room, the yells and screams of the injured and the injuring.

For five minutes I waited as I clutched Layna under my hunched body whispering words of safety and reassurance that everything would be okay. I waited until I heard the innocent tinkle of the door opening and closing in response as the enemy left with the swish of dark cloaks. I lifted up slowly to pear over the counter. What I saw made me go numb all over.

My entire family lay scattered across the entire café. My aunts lay broken across the ground before the door where they had tried to bar the exit. My younger cousins were all piled up on top of each other as they had tried to escape through the storage room. My father lay on top of a table where he had been standing when I had last seen him; he looked like he was sleeping if I ignored the severed skin below his waist that had cut him in two. I reached down to grab my sister.

"Layna, it's over. We need to leave now." She didn't respond. I shook her shoulder even harder. No response. I looked down, crouched, and turned her over. She stared at me with blank glass eyes with pursed blue lips and a hole in her side that had caused her death. When she had been flying though the air, it seemed that she had caught a stray curse and had died before she had even reached me.

As I pushed open the door, listening to the innocent tinkle of the bell, and walked toward the street, I realized that tomorrow was my 13th birthday.

"Katy, there's someone here to see you." A good natured face entered my field of vision as Sandy leaned down to get my attention. Hands grabbed my shoulders as she walked behind me to turn me toward my unexpected visitor. I lifted my head so that the protective curtain of long black hair fell away from my face so I could peer up at the increasingly tall old man standing before me.

"Hello Katelyn. I don't know if you know me, I am Albus Dumbledore," he said with a smile, "I'm here on behalf of your principal at Salem Academy, Professor Slaundings. You remember her?" After a short delay, I nodded in reply. I wasn't stupid, my mind was just running a little behind schedule. Since the massacre, I hadn't really been all that quick in the wit department. It seemed that Sandy had warned this man of my deteriorating mental state. I knew what I had to do to bring myself out of my stupor. I am aware. I just don't want my mind working well when I fall back to earth and have to deal with the loss of my entire family by force. "She thinks that you would do very well to come and attend my school. I don't know if you've heard of it, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it's very prestigious and will guarantee you a bright future if you would accept my offer. Your tuition, of course, I will offer you a full waiver for the next four years if you accept plus additional coin for supplies and essentials. Would you like to think about it for awhile before you decide?" he asked after a long awkward moment of silence while I waited for the words to make sense in my mind.

Of course I had heard of it. It was only the best wizarding school on the globe. There was really no choice for me to make. I couldn't stay here being the dark and twisty girl who had watched her family get murdered. I would never be able to move on with my life with that hanging over my head. At least in England, at one of the best schools, I could at least try to start over. And with a full tuition waiver—I wasn't exactly poor but any money would help, no matter what.

I cleared my throat and croaked, "No, I've decided. I will go to England. But I would prefer it if no one knew of my past. Fresh start, I'm sure you understand." Sandy stared at me with wide eyes as I spoke for the first time since I had been left at her house by the muggle social services. I suppose it must be taxing on a person to find that the new disturbed foster child she was caring for until the government figured out what to do with her was in some kind of cult that included formidable but strange men as the infamous Dumbledore. I doubt she would believe in the fact we were all wizards and witches, over the choice of deranged psychopaths. Either way I would be leaving her house for good. I would be leaving the state, the country the entire continent; and the oversized shadow of my late family.

Dumbledore smiled down at me as he presented my with a large heavy envelope written on with an emerald script that stated, _Miss Katelyn M. Justice, the Kitchen, 1456 Sawburst Dr., San Jose, CA 95123_. On the back was a seal in red wax bearing an H in a shield. There were other markings I couldn't make out. I broke the seal and found my acceptance letter and a list of supplies I would need for my fourth year of training at Hogwarts. I was transferring, I was leaving. It was starting to sink in. my mind was racing trying to keep up with this new speed.

Patches of green and yellow flew under the oval portal of a window as I flew over distant fields of England. A rising feeling was starting in the pit of my stomach and pushing my heart toward my throat. I remember this feeling. I think it's excitement. I barely recognize it. But it would be logical for me to be excited though. I'm now 13 years old and I'm leaving everything I know and am familiar with. I am going to stay with a wizarding family that I know nothing about. Dumbledore told me they had volunteered to foster me on breaks and such during the school year and summers. They were very high in society and had been well known on the east coast of the states. The Malfoys they were called, had never gotten such weight in the world to be known in the west so I knew very little about them.

Apparently they had a son in my year that went to Hogwarts too. I was a little skeptical of this. The boys I had known at Salem always had acted strange to me, pushing and pinching and poking, laughing behind their hands as I walked past. My cousins had always told me it was because of my fair complexion, long straight black hair, and bright eyes. They were normally blue but they changed color with my moods and dress. They said it was for my height; being 5'6" at 13, I had been like a basket of puppies, all legs and paws uncomfortable in my own skin. They said it was for my smile and my slimness; but I never really believed them. What was so attractive about a long lanky girl with pale skin, big eyes and stringy hair?

I decided that this would be a true new start for me. I would transform myself. If I wanted to leave my past behind me I would have to work at it. I would be one of those happy-go-lucky American girls that boys always liked and girls always wanted to be like. Oh dear, this is going to be difficult. First, I would have to convince these Malfoys that I was that person. I had to do this in the next hour before we landed!

Excitement rose inside of me, lifting the corners of my mouth along with it as the plane began to descend. If I were to be one of those girls, I would have to smile a lot. It was the first time I had smiled since the massacre. Softly humming excitedly to myself, I began to bob up and down, looking over the seats to see any activity in front. People started grumbling around me, which made me smile wider. Every time I did, it got easier.

The seat belt on me was off sooner than the one overhead. Pressing my hands on the seats, I vaulted over the person in the aisle seat and steadied myself in the aisle—much to his displeasure; despite the attempts at flirty conversation at the beginning of the flight. I smiled down at him so sweetly, that he started to blush. I put his age at about 16. I reached over to the overhead bin and leaned a little to pay back the boy for the crash-and-burn from the start of the flight. I wasn't really interested but I needed to practice for the test of the school. I wanted to be that girl but I don't know if I was doing very well. He started to lean back and started to get this strange look on his face; I must have been doing something wrong. How was I supposed to know what to do? I was still dark and twisty inside, I had no idea as to how to act like the happy-go-lucky American! This was going to be difficult, I thought as I pulled my oversized carry-on down to the floor with a sigh.

As I came through the terminal, I looked around until I found what I was looking for. There stood an older man, with a wash of white hair and small crinkled pale blue eyes. What made him so outlandish was the long grey servants' cloak that was commonplace in the wizarding world; but quite strange in the muggle world. Also, he looked lost and confused, searching the people coming from the plane to spot his guest. Slowly, I dragged my bag up to the man, smiling kindly as he introduced himself as Hector, the man-servant of Mr. Malfoy himself. Obviously, Mr. Malfoy was a man of serious assets and connections because it was expensive to hire a servant and from what Hector was telling me, he was definitely not the only one. We made our way to the exit, me leading most of the way, having a muggle-born father who appreciated the muggle way of life; I knew how to navigate threw the airport that Hector found so foreign. Outside I hailed a cap that took us to the street that Hector had given me for the next stop, and I paid him in the allowance Hector had gotten from the Malfoy's to bring me home to them.

Climbing out of the cab, I stared at the front step to one of the most famous wizarding spots in main England. Seriously? It was kind of a let down. Smoky windows framed a dirty door under a sign of a cauldron stating the _Leaky Cauldron. _As I stood there and stared, Hector came up behind me. "heaam heaam" he cleared his throat. I lurched forward toward the entrance as Hector dragged my bags up onto the side walk.

Pushing open the door, I saw rows and rows of low tables in a dark musky bar. Torches lined the walls about six feet off the ground. Stretching the length of the back wall, a bar was covered in empty glasses and bottles of drink. Behind the counter, a skinny hunched wizard with a receding hair line and watery eyes, wiped a sparkling glass until it shone to his standards.

"Evening, Hector, can I get you the usual?" the bartender rumbled. Especially for so small a man, his voice was a low base that caught me off guard.

"Not today, I need to use your fireplace, I've got the floo powder" Hector pulled a pull-string bag from the inside of his cloak and headed for an enormous fireplace on the wall to the left of the entrance. He passed by me as I watched the tenants sitting scattered throughout the bar. It seemed strange to me how they all sat quietly in tight groups well away from each other. I had always heard how tight-knit the wizarding community was within England. As soon as I finished this thought, a young man seated at the bar swiveled around and stared at me under a shield of curly brown hair around his face. The look in his eyes threw me off guard so much I actually took a step back and lowered my head; welcoming the wave of walls around my face as my hair fell forward.

"Miss Justice? If you please, it's time to go now" when I looked up at Hector, he was glaring at the man with the curly top as he grinned slightly and turned back around. At the fireplace, Hector pushed me in and yelled "Malfoy Manor" into the flames for me. I don't see why, I know how to run a floo powder journey.

When I came out of emerald flames around me, I leaned back as the hearth tried to spit me out onto the floor. As I looked around I saw stone walls, torches sparsely placed along them, creating a shady, eerie affect on the rest of the room. The ceilings were high the floor wide and long, the furniture was black leather and mahogany wood. There was an exotic Persian across the floor. And seated in the love seat set perpendicular and to the left of the fireplace—which could have easily fit a small minivan inside—was a beautiful woman with ice blonde hair to the small of her back, piercing blue eyes the color of the arctic oceans and lips that held them in such a way that I actually sniffed the air to find the foul odor, all this on a long thin face with prominent cheekbones and that atop a long slender body that standing would have all together reached maybe 5'9" or 10". She was a magnificent spectacle of womanhood, except for the look of sheer contempt on her face as she watched me brush ash from my shirt front. When I looked up at her again she was staring pointedly at my shirt. I looked down; I wore one of my favorite tops I owned. I had bought it at a thrift shop in the states. It was long-sleeved and a deep blue that set off my eyes on the right day, it had a low scoop-neck that showed a great deal of skin. I loved this shirt but it seemed this cold, beautiful woman did not like it.

"Umm, hello. My name is Katelyn, I think you were expecting me. You must be Mrs. Malfoy, it's a pleasure to make you acquaintance." I stepped forward with my hand extended to her, smiling. She stood at my words, still eyeing me with disdain. She didn't take my hand but stared at it as if it were a dirty slug or something of that nature.

I sighed as I realized this was not the best sign for a first impression. I decided I did not like this quiet woman and that I was not going to make this any easier for her than she was making it for me.

"This is a hand", I said, pointing to my outstretched hand with the other, "you shake it as a sign of welcome and introduction. I need your hand to make it work how it is supposed to, I can't do it on my own." I smiled sweetly up to her with all the kinds of daggers I could muster in my eyes. I had perfected this look with my sister and I loved how it made people squirm beneath it. But it seemed to have no affect on her.

"Excuse me from this distasteful tradition", she spat at me with a low alto of a voice, "your hands are ridiculously filthy and I have no intention to catch whatever it is you've been rolling in". On that note, she turned on her heel and walked toward the large, dark doors at the end of the long room as I stared after her with my hand still hanging there. She was one tough woman, she would be difficult to beat and I knew that that is what it was going to take to live through the rest of the summer.

At the door, she turned around and regarded me with her neck regally straight, "Do you plan to spend the remainder of your stay in the parlor or do you plan to stay in a bedroom?" Quickly I realized that we weren't waiting for Hector, but he had my bags. He must have been bringing them some other way. I hurried over to Mrs. Malfoy as she stepped through the door and proceeded down the hall.

The entire house was made of stone, and reminded me greatly of an 18th century fortress, right out of some fairy tale. The torches were so far apart that I felt like dusk had set itself permanently over the insides of the manor. Mrs. Malfoy did not say one word to me the entire walk to what I supposed would be my room. When she stopped at a small, nondescript door, images flashed through my mind of a hovel with straw mat and chamber pot to complete it. But when she opened the door, I actually gasped aloud. To soften the hardness of stone, floor to ceiling tapestries in pastel colors, painting pictures of forests and fields, covered every wall, and there was wall to wall carpets, all Persians one on top of the other. There was a large, wrought iron four-poster bed against the left wall, stretching to the center of the room, and a large wardrobe and a matching desk against the far wall, which was next to a large bay window with a cushioned seat. Against the right wall were shelves; floor to ceiling, wall to wall, stuffed with books, every book you could imagine. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

"I hope you are comfortable in this room," I could hear the amusement in her voice in response to the look of drop-jawed awe splattered across my face, "if you need anything, just yell out the door. Oh and your luggage should already be here, unpacked and laid out."

Then she left and closed the door with a snap behind her. The first thing I did when I found myself alone was throw myself on the bed and start to weep silently. How could Dumbledore be so wrong? This was not a "pleasant place". This was an oversized dungeon, even with all the décor and sophistication.

As I calmed down slowly in the comfort of feather soft bed surrounding me, I heard a soft knock on my door. I checked my face, performing a simple fresh face spell I knew in the presence of the mirror on the inside door of my wardrobe I had found. I opened the door to a beautiful young man before me that must have been the young Malfoy son. He had the same face as his mother, the same hair and the same sneer under his sharp, pointed nose. There was a hardness in his eyes as if he felt he had to prove something to me. I was taller than him by about half of a head, and that seemed to put him off some. I didn't really care being that I'm taller than most people my age.

"Hello." He muttered to me as he stared up into my face, "my name is Draco Malfoy, the next master of his house?" he said it as a question to make sure I understood what he was saying as if being American had shortened my comprehension capabilities. "My mother wishes to invite you to dinner with the family seeing as how you will be staying with us for the next two weeks. She thinks it will help the acclimating process, I don't see why." He put so much scorn into the last phrase to make sure that I knew without a doubt that he didn't think much of me.

This was going to be a long two weeks, I thought with an inner sigh. Already two people in my host family hated me, all I had left was the father and I doubted it would be much of a different reception than that of the mother and son.  
"Umm, okay. Do I need to change into something more appropriate or is my attire suitable?" I threw in a little more proper language just to throw him off guard and it seemed to work, to my satisfaction, but only for a second. He was a quick recovery.

"Yes, you will need to wear something more formal. If you have nothing, we had some things made for you. They are in the wardrobe." He said after blinking in shock at the difference he heard over what he had expected. I bet he had expected some hick with horrible English and a drawling accent barely understood. I smiled at the fact that I wasn't what he had expected.

After a moment of silence, I looked at him pointedly with a smile, "Thank you but I think I can dress myself now. If you'll excuse me." And I slammed the door on his face with a quiet giggle. I could handle these people; it was just a matter of finding them a lot dumber than everyone really believed they were. Obviously, they were deeply respected in this community, but I wasn't really a part of this community was I?

It was as I was walking down the dark hallway—in a gorgeous dinner gown I had found in the wardrobe that went to my knees in a deep blue chiffon fabric that bubbled out at the hem and held me close at the bust with thick straps over the shoulders—that I realized that I had no clue where I was going. This house was huge, there had to be many different dining rooms, and bedrooms, and living rooms. I started to take random turns as I started to panic. At the next corner, I almost ran headlong into a small woman dressed in the grey servants robes carrying a bundle of towels and incidentally made her stumble  
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you. Are you alright?" I worried as I gathered the towels that had fallen. When I reached out my hand to help her up, she actually flinched before she grabbed it and hauled herself up. I saw a fading bruise under the cuff of her sleeve; I pushed back the sleeve to see a hand span covering her wrist. I looked up at her questioningly, one of my cousins had married into southern wealth in America and it had taken everything in her to keep her new in-laws from mistreating their servants. They are not slaves anywhere in America or England but people still seem to insist on treating them as such; and it was probably the most horrible thing I had ever heard in my life and it made my blood boil.

When I released her hand, she blushed and pulled her sleeve back down but didn't say a word.

"Umm, you wouldn't know where I could find the family would you? I'm supposed to have dinner with them but I think I might be late. Could you take me to them?" Meekly she nodded and led me back the way I came, which made me feel very stupid. When she reached a door hidden in a corner, she turned and whispered to me, "Please don't tell the mistress I fell." And looked up into my eyes with desperation I had never seen before. I nodded in reply and stepped forward opening the door, and walked into what I felt was my doom.


End file.
